Friday, October 14, 2011

Sentimentality

I don't know when I lost my sentimentality.

Whaaap

With a thud the fish stops flopping up and down. It lays still on the floor of the boat. My camp counselor, a tanned college student, carefully places the paddle on the seat and cuts the fishing line. The hook remains dangling from the lifeless mouth.

He grabs the fish with his bare hand and throws it back into the water. He talks slightly above a whisper. I don't know if his words are directed at me or into the air.

Couldn't get the hook out of that one. He would have never survived!

*

My son and daughter sit on the curb in front of our house, stunned. The car pulls over as the dog's owner sprints around the corner. She stops a few paces away and screams.

The animal's chest heaves up and down slowly, but he is otherwise incapacitated. My daughter looks up at me quizzically?

Can we call an ambulance? Can we take him to the hospital?

I don't respond at first. The owner is now leaning over her beloved pet. She strokes his head and whispers softly into his ear. She is crying.